


Picture Perfect

by flybynight



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:19:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flybynight/pseuds/flybynight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desperate times call for desperate measures, so says the poor broke college student. Sometimes the most questionable decisions can lead to surprising outcomes, as Arthur finds out in the very best way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picture Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> And here I am again with more smut, yaaaah. Warning for language, me-not-knowing-how-modeling-or-modeling-agencies-work, and unrealistic perfect first time sex with a stranger. I normally try not to write their first meetings as "omg two hot guys immediately fall in love and then into bed" but I couldn't help myself. This was literally based off of a silly porno I watched with a friend for laughs that made little to no sense (well, it's porn, what were we expecting?), so I hope no one actually takes this very seriously. 
> 
> One day I will write a story that isn't just blatant fanservice. One day.

This had to be the _worst_ idea Arthur had ever had. And that was saying a lot, because he'd done some pretty stupid things, starting from his teenage years of too many piercings, fake tattoos, and hair dye, to drunken college nonsense on any given Friday night or after exam week.

It wasn't that he didn't think things through, certainly not. Most of his worst decisions simply stemmed from a feeling akin to desperation. Like anyone else, he'd wanted to fit in with his peers as an adolescent, which accounted for a lot of the stupid shit he'd put himself through. And later, despite having cleaned up and become an excellent student, the drinking even seemed a necessity since university saw fit to destroy him with thesis papers and assignments that stacked high enough to rival any mountain, and never mind what it did to his wallet-- 

Well, his wallet was exactly why he was here.

Arthur had a job of course, working part time at a book store a block or two from his campus apartment, but that only paid so much, and it certainly couldn't handle his daily living expenses plus the crushing debt that came with pursuing higher education. Really, his hands were tied. Particularly when he realized he didn't have enough to buy all of his textbooks that semester. He needed money, quickly.

But here, here was an opportunity of sorts, one recommended by his perverted ex and one time roommate, a sassy art major who seemed to know a lot of people who were looking for models. Nude models. Really Arthur had just thought the other was joking after having one too many shots of tequila and listening to Arthur's financial woes (and perhaps just trying to get Arthur naked for _him_ , not that that was ever going to happen again), but it turned out the whole thing had been "legit".

He'd called the number his friend had hastily scribbled on a napkin, and was answered by a rather pleasant and professional sounding secretary who stated she indeed worked for a freelance photography company that sold much of its work to art schools around the country. Arthur had been so shocked that he hadn't been tricked into calling a raunchy sex line or some other slighted ex-boyfriend's house, that he'd agreed to do it, even before he'd heard the terms. Of course, he immediately went to the internet to look up the company name to verify that it was a real company and not some elaborate scam or plot to lure in unsuspecting broke college students and murder them or something. 

And the terms were quite nice. For his gender and body type, he would receive $250 for a two hour shoot as long as he sent a few pictures of himself beforehand and filled out a proper application (with somewhat embarrassing questions about his appearance, like whether or not he had any bruises or obvious scars in any... intimate places). Arthur was surprised they hadn't asked to interview him first as well, but he had supposed he would find out once he was accepted. He was even more surprised that it paid so well, but perhaps they were just as desperate as he was.

Arthur didn't know much about art schools, or even art really, but it didn't matter much to him. He was not going to turn his nose up at money, and if it meant he had to get in the buff and pose before a camera to do it--

Well, that part still bothered him. But, he ended up being called back and told to come in, so here he was, at the "studio" which was really in a small but clean looking office building a half an hour drive from his apartment. The woman he'd spoken to on the phone numerous times before the appointment had greeted him at the front desk very pleasantly, looked him over with some approval, and then directed him to a large, white-walled room with one big window, lots of photography equipment, and lights laying about. There was a single white bench-like table to sit on.

He was advised to remove his clothing, though she'd kindly offered him a covering (which was really nothing more than a glorified bed sheet) and promised that the photographer assigned to him would be with him shortly. Honestly the whole thing felt like an awkward trip to the doctor's office, which was quite apt, as he started to feel sick 5 minutes into waiting, alone and naked, in a strange white room.

Just as he was about to put his clothes back on and call off the entire affair, the door opened, and in walked his photographer.

It was either his photographer, or another model, Arthur couldn't tell, as the man was dreadfully handsome. Shiny blonde hair, bronzed skin, muscular physique and a chiseled jaw, and blue eyes that Arthur could see all the way across the room. He was dressed in dark cargo pants and a tight-fitting black t-shirt that showed off his toned arms and the outline of his pecs.

Arthur hoped to God he wasn't drooling, because he suddenly felt his stomach flip wildly and every single thought fly out of his head as he just _stared_.

"Hi there, Arthur Kirkland?" Mr. Sex-on-Legs asked him with a cheerful and blindingly white smile as he offered his hand. Arthur nodded, shaking the other man's hand and deciding not to speak just yet, lest he stutter or something equally stupid.

"Cool, I'm Alfred. You can call me Al. Here's my card," Alfred handed over a small card that was decorated with an artsy American flag motif and had his name plastered boldly above "Professional Photographer" and a work phone #.

"Well someone's patriotic," Arthur said quietly, and then immediately wanted to hit himself. Sometimes he couldn't help that his cynical inner monologue managed to make its way out of his mouth. It was a rather annoying habit, one that worked very well for getting people he didn't like to go away, but it didn't lend itself to helping his romantic life any.

But Alfred just grinned at him. "Yeah, you could say that. Does that bother you? I can tell you're not from around here. English?"

"I suppose my accent must have given me away again. Indeed, I am English. And no, it doesn't bother me," Arthur continued, and slowly he felt his shoulders relax at the kind way the other man was looking at him. It appeared he hadn't gotten off to the wrong foot after all. He took in a quiet breath and tried to muster a polite smile back.

"Well, guess we better get started, huh. It's kinda cold in here, I bet you're freezing!" Alfred walked over to a corner and set down a large black leather bag that Arthur hadn't noticed, having been distracted by everything else about him. Arthur was a little cold, now that he thought about it, but he couldn't deny that the way he tugged the sheets closer to his body had less to do with the chill and more due to his self-consciousness. Which was ridiculous, really, considering Alfred was going to be photographing him in the nude soon enough.

The cameraman took out several tools and camera equipment from the bag, all of which was completely lost on Arthur, but he recognized the giant camera immediately. Alfred cradled it almost delicately to his chest as he fiddled with some knobs and buttons, then set it down carefully on the floor. He then went about setting up lights on stands and he immediately closed the curtain over the big window, which was a relief, though he didn't expect anyone to see him from two floors up.

Once Alfred was done, he turned back to Arthur, gathering up his camera and smiling at him again, completely ruining any calm that had collected while watching the other man bustle about. Arthur felt like some silly school girl, getting all fluttery over a flash of teeth, honestly.

"Ready to start? No need to be shy, I promise it ain't nothing I haven't seen before," the other blonde winked at him, and Arthur felt his heart stutter and stop.

"'Ain't' is not a word," he bit out, as if that was the only thing wrong with that terrible sentence, death grip on the sheets around him now, "and I'm not shy."

"Oh yeah? The death grip you've got on those sheets tells me otherwise."

Arthur didn't take too kindly to being teased, especially at such a moment as this. He scowled and almost decided to take back every compliment to the man before him back in his head (well, almost, damn him for being so horribly attractive and yet a jerk) and started to loosen his fingers. One didn't simply just get naked in front of strangers. Especially not supremely handsome strangers holding cameras. Nevermind that that was the reason he was here, that he had signed a contract and had agreed to accept some compensation for his embarrassment. All he had to do was take a deep breath and--

"Hey... hey, relax. I was teasing, but, if you really don't want to do this, you don't have to. We can call it off right now," Alfred said suddenly, and his expression was a bit more serious and concerned than Arthur expected. He took one look at it and felt all of him flush red (well now he really didn't want to get naked, curse his pale skin).

But no, he couldn't call it off. He needed the money, dammit.

_Come on, Arthur. Get it together. It's just a handful of bloody pictures, and it's not like you're posing for a porn mag._

That he knew of, anyway. He took another breath and let the sheets start to pool around his waist, exposing his back and chest to the chill air. Alfred was still looking at him the way one would look at a frightened animal, almost as if he wanted to reach out to calm him, but thought better of it. Which was just as well, Arthur didn't know what he'd do if the man tried to touch him.

_I'd probably end up with a very different problem..._

"My apologies. I've just... never done anything like this before," he murmured, feeling his cheeks grow redder. The sheets fell away a little more.

"I understand. Not many people have, of course! But if it makes you feel any better, your face won't be in any of the shots."

Well, he had forgotten about that part. It actually was a relief. He couldn't imagine trying to get published in some historical or literary journal 10 years from now, only to have something embarrassing like that show up on his record on some Google search somewhere.

Finally, with a slight huff that Alfred actually laughed lightly at, he shoved the sheets to the floor and folded his arms across his chest. He pointedly glanced at the photographer as if to say 'get on with it', and immediately his eyes went wide as he watched Alfred give him a long once-over. Arthur wasn't sure if he hoped the look was purely part of some artistic need to "study his subject" (or at least check for flaws) or something else. He couldn't allow himself to believe that the American actually _liked_ what he saw.

But Alfred wasn't looking away, and suddenly the lights scattered about felt very hot on his skin.

After a moment, the taller blonde started to smile. "Wow, Artie. Don't take this wrong way or nothin', but you've got nothing to be ashamed of, if that's what you were worried about."

_Oh God._

"My name is 'Arthur'...." Arthur replied, stupidly even, his brain having short-circuited until all he was able to think in his head was ' _does that mean you think I'm hot? I think you're hot too. Let's talk about this more. You get naked too, we'll have a real go of it._ '

Thankfully (perhaps, sort of), Alfred was far more professional than that. He simply laughed, "Arthur, right, of course", and went back into business mode, instructing Arthur to drop his folded arms and sit in a relaxed position for the first couple of shots. It was time to get this over with.

The hour went about as expected. Arthur felt immensely awkward, but Alfred seemed to be endlessly patient with him. He'd immediately had to get over his fear of being touched, as Alfred would be holding his camera steady to take a shot before he'd stop, walk over, and adjust one of Arthur's limbs or tilt him one way or another. And Arthur surprisingly didn't embarrass himself thoroughly by getting a boner every time Alfred came close and he got a whiff of his lovely cologne, or whenever Alfred's large, warm hands touched his skin. He'd shiver, but thankfully the lightly air conditioned room made a good case for that.

He tried to focus instead on looking disinterested when Alfred would come up closer with the camera, but his eyes would always be drawn to the other man's figure, the intense look of concentration on his face as he acted with an air of professionalism that surprised the Englishman just a bit. Which was a little unfair, as Alfred had been nothing but polite and kind to him. It stood to reason that of course he could do his job, even if his mere presence made Arthur hot and kind of like he wanted to jump a complete stranger he'd just met. That wasn't Alfred's fault really.

After an hour had gone, Alfred seemed to have taken more pictures than he'd expected. They both took a slight break, Arthur uncurling from a somewhat uncomfortable position before stretching out a bit. Somehow he'd lost a bit of his modesty-- he supposed an hour of posing with his bollocks on clear display would be enough to make anyone less shy. Alfred was polishing the lens on his camera idly, before he looked up at him. Arthur noticed his hand pause.

"So, Artie--"

"It's Arthur."

"Arthur. Any particular reason you signed up for this? Pretty desperate for cash, huh?"

Arthur looked half embarrassed, half sardonic. "Yes, I suppose you could say that. Those university bills don't pay themselves, you know."

Alfred made a sympathetic noise, smiling. "Yeah, I got you. It kinda sucks. I'm still paying my way myself."

"Does this job pay you well?" he asked, and then wondered if that was too personal or not. Alfred didn't seem to care either way, as he shrugged.

"It pays my rent and food bills, but I have to do a lot of commissions. I don't work just here, of course, otherwise I'd never make it."

Arthur nodded quietly. The room was silent for a moment. Then--

"How old are you?"

"26," Arthur supplied. "On my sixth year of uni. And you?"

"24. And wow, I thought you seemed super mature."

What the devil was that supposed to mean? "Are you calling me old?"

Alfred laughed brightly, louder than he had the entire time. It was loud and just a tad obnoxious, but it made Arthur crack a smile himself-- except he did really want to know what Alfred was implying.

"No dude, not at all! I just mean you had this kind of... air about you. Like, you know."

No, Arthur didn't really know. So he decided to counter. "Well, you seemed very young. I had actually guessed 18."

The smirk the other man gave him was quite dangerous. Arthur couldn't stand to look at it very long.

"Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment. But yeah, it comes with having this annoying baby face. I still get carded some places if I'm dressed a certain way."

 _I rather like your 'baby face'_. "I see."

Arthur wondered when they were going to get back to the picture taking. Not that he minded talking, small talk even. Alfred's voice, though it could be a bit loud, was actually soothing him. Or perhaps that was the blatant attraction talking. He didn't know and didn't particularly care. They continued to chat amicably until another entire 15 minutes had passed, and it was then that Alfred suddenly remembered he had a camera in his hand and perhaps a conversation of this sort would be better suited between two people when both were clothed properly.

But still, Arthur didn't complain. The rest of the hour felt leagues better than the first, simply by way of the fact that they were noticeably more comfortable around each other. Well, Arthur was. Alfred hadn't seemed bothered at all from the beginning. But Alfred would say something in between shots, and Arthur would crack sarcastic remarks in response, and the whole thing was going rather swimmingly.

"Well, that should be it," Alfred said as he took one last shot. Arthur couldn't help the feeling of disappointment. "it's been a real treat, Arti-- Arthur."

Arthur cracked a bit of a smile. "Thank you. I appreciate your... patience with me."

"No problem, no problem. You're actually one of the better models I've worked with. You're not difficult to work with at all, and the camera loves you! I won't even have to do much touching up."

 _Oh really? And what do_ you _think about me?_

Arthur cursed his thoughts and scrambled for something to say in response. "...Thank you? I find that rather hard to believe. I take terrible photos."

"Ah, but _I_ don't, you see," the American replied with a cocky smile that did... terrible, terrible things to Arthur's heart and soul and mind, god he needed to get his clothes back on before something bad happened.

"Well aren't we cocky," he said, though it came out slightly garbled over the 'cocky', as any mention of cocks was not a good road to go down, no, not at all.

Alfred was still smirking. "Yeah, maybe a little. I'm told it's attractive on me."

_Oh God. Oh God... Are we flirting? Is he flirting?_

"Well, they weren't exactly lying to you," Arthur tried to say unceremoniously, and yet it still came out sounding like a proposition. He blushed again, but kept his expression neutral. "But no one likes an egoist."

"Did you just call me attractive?"

Fuck. Of course he would zero in on that part. "I... I suppose I did."

Alfred was full on grinning again, but there was something else in his expression that Arthur didn't dare quite place. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear self-consciously and wondered where in the hell that bed sheet had run off to, it seemed safer to have it about, despite the room temperature suddenly seeming to skyrocket from Alfred's blatant stare.

"Well, I think you're pretty attractive too, Arthur."

Alfred wasn't going to make this easy, was he? Arthur slowly lifted his head up to look at him, and the smile on the other man's face was anything but gentle or amused any longer. It made heat pool in his stomach and his breath quicken. His cock stirred despite himself, but he hardly made any move to cover himself.

"I'm... sure you say that to everyone who's modeled for you..." the older man made one last ditch effort to contain himself, to contain the situation, even as he watched Alfred begin to slowly close the distance between them.

"Nah, like I said, you're different. I've never wanted to fuck any of the models I've worked with before. Granted, most of them were girls, so that's to be expected considering I'm not really into them, but yeah."

Arthur made a strange noise in the back of his throat at that statement. How quickly they had escalated from talking of their majors to... to...

Alfred actually managed to look contrite. "Sorry, I guess it just slipped out."

"You don't actually mean that, do you?" Arthur asked, pathetically. No matter how badly he wanted it to be true, he couldn't help but ask.

A hand reached out, traced over the curve of his face. Arthur shamelessly leaned into it as their eyes met fully for the first time. Alfred's eyes were so ridiculously blue, Arthur felt his breath catch yet again.

"I do. Unless that bothers you...?"

It didn't bother Arthur in the _least_.

"That's not very professional," he murmured anyway, despite knowing he was already a lost cause. His voice came out in a slight purr that significantly seemed to affect Alfred, his pretty eyes darkening a shade or two. Arthur lowered his own lashes to half mast as the hand on his face trailed to his neck.

"You kinda make that difficult. I can't lie, I've been holding myself back since I walked in here."

"Oh? Am I that distracting?"

Alfred chuckled, deeply, and it made Arthur's toes curl. "Fuck yes."

"My sincerest apologies," Arthur said, and as his lips curled upwards to give the other a look to match the cocky one Alfred had been so good at sporting, both of them leaned in towards each other easily. Far too easily.

The first kiss was subtle, almost a chaste little thing that still left Arthur feeling hot and bothered and wishing Alfred would just touch him again already, pose him like before but under far different circumstances.

The second kiss was much less so, and when he felt Alfred run his tongue over the seam of his lips, he opened his mouth, and all at once the world began to fall away as all he was aware of anymore was the ridiculous heat of Alfred's body, the way their mouths fit so nicely together, and the potent desire that made him dizzy.

It happened in mere moments. Arthur barely had enough time to catch his breath before he was pushed onto his back, and Alfred followed him, still clothed and creating the most delicious friction against his bare skin as he slid their bodies together. He tangled his fingers in the photographer's messy hair the way he had wanted to the moment he saw him walk through that door, bringing their mouths together for another passionate kiss.

He stuttered a curse when Alfred finally pulled away again only to grind against him with a roll of his hips. He seemed to just watch Arthur for a few breathless seconds as he did so, smiling in that infuriatingly attractive way that set the other man's nerves on fire and made the blood rush to his cheeks. He wanted to ask him to stop teasing, but by then Alfred was already moving on, kissing him again but working his way down his body, lingering over his pectorals and sliding a hot tongue along his stomach.

By the time he reached his cock, Arthur was flushed a brilliant shade of red, and he couldn't help the little whine that got stuck in his throat when Alfred looked back up at him once more before wrapping his lips around the head. With a moan, he let his head fall back, hand coming up to shield his eyes as the other man sucked him languidly, moving his head up and down at a steady pace even as his hands seemed to go every which way, wildly. Along his sides, over his nipples, under his thighs, gripping him, holding Arthur still as he swallowed him.

Arthur tried to bite down on his fist to stop his cries from spiraling any higher before giving up, fingers swirling in Alfred's hair as he continued, spurring him on with breathless pleas for release. But he should have known he wouldn't receive it so easily, as Alfred stopped sucking and raised his head, not looking at Arthur's face, but rather further between his legs. Breath hitching, Arthur tried to gather some sense and figure out what he was planning to do, but by the time he could even venture to guess, Alfred was moving again, crawling over him, but from the other direction.

"W-What are you--"

The words immediately trailed off into obscenities as Alfred grabbed his hips again and pulled his legs towards Arthur's head, leaving his ass in the air and subsequently right in Alfred's face in the most exposed position he could ever remember being in. The other man settled his legs on either side of him and rolled his tongue over his balls before licking his way up to swirl wetly over his quivering hole. Arthur jerked and shuddered, simply grasping at Alfred's hips weakly as he was sucked and licked. No one had ever done such a thing to him before, he never imagined it could feel anything but strange, but now he could hardly contain himself. His nails dug into the fabric of Alfred' pants desperately.

"Fuck, you taste amazing..." Alfred moaned between wet sucks, sending shock waves of pleasure coursing through Arthur, making him delirious with want. He cried out when Alfred buried his face between his cheeks with a growl, and he thought he might lose his mind. The heat between them was twice as intense, and he would have thought himself suffocating as he gasped for breath between wanton moans.

He wanted to cum so badly. He thrashed weakly underneath Alfred, who pulled back knowingly and released his legs. Arthur could have screamed from the loss of sensation, and he let his head fall back again with a soft thunk, expression torn between annoyance and desire. Alfred turned back around to face him, but his face was no longer as playful. In fact, Arthur would describe it more aptly as downright beastly, the hunger in his eyes potent enough that Arthur actually moaned a bit.

Alfred moved swiftly to capture his lips again, and the British man heard the tell-tale jingle of his belt buckle as he flicked it open and ripped it from the loops of his jeans. Arthur immediately made to grab for him, sliding his hands over the other man's toned, muscled arms, starting to find his way to the waistband of his pants so that he could shove them off and see what he so desperately desired. But the other man was faster, grabbing his wrists in one hand and pinning them above his head.

"Not so fast, baby. Let me take care of you," he murmured hotly against Arthur's cheek, and Arthur couldn't even lie to himself and say he didn't want that, more than anything. Even the ridiculous pet name only made his cock twitch (much to his shame). He stilled briefly, long enough for Alfred to wrap the belt loosely about his wrists. Not enough to truly bind or prevent Arthur from breaking free, but enough to fan the fire for both of them. Alfred pulled back from his handiwork with a smirk, examining him with the gaze of a photographer through and through, memorizing, before finally, _finally_ he moved to tug down the bothersome barrier between them.

"Oh my god..." Arthur breathed softly, unthinkingly, as the pants came off along with a charming red pair of boxer briefs, all to reveal the biggest cock he'd ever seen. All of this was already something out of his wet dreams and perhaps every other amazing pornography film he'd seen in the last decade, and this was the icing on top. It was almost a shame as he watched Alfred dig around in his bag, most likely looking for a condom (who the hell carried condoms with them to photo shoots? This was ridiculous), which he found in his wallet (well, that was slightly more acceptable), and then rolled it onto that fabulous length. He wanted it, he wanted it so damn bad. He couldn't help bucking his hips in the hopes that Alfred would just move already.

"Like what you see, huh?" the American chuckled, and Arthur had the decency to blush, though he had little fucks to give about propriety any longer.

"Maybe. Only if you're going to fuck me with it," he responded, lowering his long lashes and giving his best come hither look. He tried to spread his legs as best he could while being straddled under all of that glorious muscle.

Alfred's nostrils flared for a moment and he growled, shoving his cock snugly up against the crack of his ass, grinning again when Arthur gasped.

"You're damn right I'm going to fuck you with it... how do you want it?"

"I don't care, I just want it in me, or I swear I'll flip you over and do it myself!"

Alfred actually paused, laughing. "God, I love how feisty you are... That doesn't sound half bad, let's save that one for next time."

 _Next time?_ Arthur thought with a bit of a flutter in his chest. A simple comment should not have made him feel so happy, especially considering that he was still horny as fuck and wanting to get off, everything else be damned, but just the implication of there possibly being a next time was almost too much to handle.

He wasn't sure if Alfred could sense his elation or not, as no more words were spoken, and he pulled him forward, nudging the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscle and thrusting in, causing them both to gasp like dying men. Arthur melted against the table as he was quite literally fucked into it, hardly able to keep up with the rough pace right off the bat, but he did his damnedest to try. He raised his hips to meet his thrusts, tightening rhythmically around the other man, managing a breathless chuckle when Alfred groaned and leaned down to pant harshly against his neck.

As his legs wrapped around the taller man's back, they both began to lose themselves to the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and the table rattling beneath them. Arthur came first, nearly screaming as his prostate was struck repeatedly, before trailing off into nonsensical murmurs and pleased noises as Alfred continued to fill him oh-so-nicely. He didn't even have enough mind to wonder if the poor secretary could hear them outside, it was just too good.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... so tight, Arthur... so good..." Alfred ground out, and as he bent to kiss him again, Arthur raised his bound wrists and slipped them over Alfred's head, pulling him down to plunder his mouth and hold him, keep him right where he wanted him. As he came, they both moaned, and the photographer slumped over him, barely supporting himself on his elbows until Arthur tugged him down further, wanting that delicious weight on top of him.

His legs, which felt akin to jelly at this point, fell to either side of him and they both relaxed against the table, a warm, comfortable mess of limbs.

After a few long moments, Alfred raised his head to kiss Arthur's cheek softly, strangely sweet. It made Arthur blush stupidly, though he said nothing, simply tugging his wrists free and letting the belt fall away and to the floor before wrapping his arms back around him.

"So... You free tomorrow afternoon for lunch?"

Arthur blinked, looking up at the other man as though confused. He was too busy trying to rationalize the fact that he'd just had mind-blowing but completely spontaneous sex with a complete stranger to understand proper English again just yet. "I... I believe so?"

"Cool," Alfred answered, kissing his cheek again. Apparently he was the cuddly, affectionate type. Once again, Arthur had zero complaints. "My card has my work number, but I'll give you my personal cell. I can pick you up around noon?"

Arthur decided this was the _best_ damn idea he'd ever had.


End file.
